


Window

by phlebotinxm



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coda, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlebotinxm/pseuds/phlebotinxm
Summary: Nights always were the worse, she realized about a week after a part of her heart had died. Her bed was too big, her sheets too cold, the entire room too silent.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Window

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,   
> I guess I just needed to get a few things out of my head, and this is what I came up with. This is set after the season 5 finale, so beware of the tags and take care of yourself! 
> 
> The title is from "Window" by The Album Leaf.
> 
> This is unbeta'd and written at two in the morning... so I apologize in advance for the eventual (probably numerous) mistakes I could have made in this little thing. xx

Nights always were the worse, she realized about a week after a part of her heart had died. Her bed was too big, her sheets too cold, the entire room too silent. For all she’d prided herself in being for years, Jemma Simmons had never thought she’d be so dependent. Yet there she was, craving a presence and a touch she couldn’t have, from someone who wasn’t there anymore. 

The first two nights she’d spent crying curled up on the couch in the darkest corner of their bunk. She couldn’t quite find it in herself to go to bed alone. The moments she had to, when he was away on missions that lasted a bit longer than usual or simply when they were forced to separe for a bit, it had never quite felt like this. Because no matter what happened, she always woke up with him wrapped around her, the warm feeling of his lips against her temple, neck or shoulder. This time was different. Because no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, she knew there was no waking up next to him anymore. The following nights, she’d found herself too exhausted to fight Mack’s strong arms as he gently led her to the bed she’d dredded for so long. The sheets were still unmade, and with a gasp, Jemma realized that she’d chastiested him for it the morning of. 

_ “We’re off to save the world, Jemma. I think the sheets can wait, don’t you think?”  _

It turned out, the sheets could. Her heart? Not so much. 

She was eternally grateful for Mack’s silence but steady presence when he’d forced her to lay down, taking off her shoes. She hadn’t worn anything but sweetpants and a large shirt in days, which made it simpler for her to simply roll over and curl herself in the empty space of the bed. Mack had left quietly. Her spiralling thoughts hadn’t.

It felt excuriating, to wait until the Zephyr was ready to head off to space. A couple of weeks, at most, Daisy had told her. She didn’t have the courage to tell her that she had no idea if her heart wouldn’t have stopped beating until then. 

As she laid in the big bed that felt too empty now, Jemma thought about all those nights they’d made love so carelessly, all those nights spent caressing each other’s bodies for hours and kissing until they felt dizzy with it. They’d always been tactile, even before they even got together. She remembered his steady embraces when he hugged her when they came home from their parents’ at the Academy, or the brush of their shoulders against one another. It had only made sense for this closeness to translate into their romantic relationship. Jemma hadn’t thought about it much, before Daisy had made a stupid remark about the frequency of sexual intercourse in long lasting relationship over dinner a few years ago. She remembered how she felt almost in withdrawal when they didn’t make love for an entire week, craving his touch and his kisses against the length of her body. The sole of his fingertips against her skin, the feeling of his breath mixing with hers. She didn’t quite realize then that this aching feeling was nothing compared to the one that crushed her heart, now. It was laughable, really. 

She remembered the rough patch of his hand against her belly, pressing there and stilling, his gaze bored into hers. She remembered reading the same endless words in his gaze, the same question she always asked herself idly when she sometimes looked at her reflection through the mirror before she showered. Would they ever be able to have a normal life, to feel a life grow in her belly and have a family of their own? All those nights they’d spent making love carelessly, putting aside condoms and risking it before she got her IUD. All those nights when they’d pretended that they were a normal couple, where he’d whispered to her how much he wanted to have a baby with her and run away to Scotland like they’d promised each other a long time ago.

At this, Jemma had thrown the spare pillow onto the opposite walls, tears spilling past her lashes. She’d felt so angry. Angry at everyone around, acting like she was seconds away from bursting into tears every two minutes. Angry at the world for taking the other half of her heart. Angry at  _ him _ , for leaving her behind. 

_ “You promised,”  _ she’d cried, her tears soaking the sheets she still hadn’t changed. She could still smell a bit of his cologne if she curled against his favorite spot.  _ “You promised a life with me. You promised you’d never leave. You promised we’d be carefree, and make that baby. You promised all of this, and you just left.”  _

She’d broken the framed picture of the monkeys from the zoo in Glasgow, the one they’d gone to together for his 18th birthday. When she gathered the pieces, she opened the skin of her palm, coating the photograp with thick drops of blood. The next morning, Daisy gasped so loud even Davis and Piper rushed to her side. She only agreed to the stitches because of the tears sliding past Daisy’s waterline. It seemed like everything she did broke everyone’s heart, lately. 

To be fair, she’d thought that day, maybe it was only an echo of the hollow inside of her. She was selfish. But she didn’t want to be the only one feeling like each day equalled endless suffering. She was a scientist, after all. She knew she should be dead, by now. No one survived without a heart. 

Jemma realized it had been an entire week when she fell asleep out of pure exhaustion for the first time since they’d stopped the end of the world. There weren’t any thoughts in her head as she closed her eyes, but she’d dreamed of bright blue eyes and a familiar, cheeky smile. She’d woken up aching for his presence, and cried until her head felt like it had been split open in two. 

_ “My mum says crying is therapeutic, sometimes. She’s told me that since my da left and never looked back, actually. He used to say crying was for the weak, you know. But mum always told me it was okay to cry, and she held me when I did. You know, when we have a wee one… First thing I’m gonna teach them is that it’s okay to cry. Because I know how good it feels to let go, sometimes.”  _

As she stared at the ceiling of their room, tears silently running down the side of her face, Jemma chuckled. “Liar,” she whispered.

  
  



End file.
